


The Adventures of Bird Girl

by wireless_operator



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bird/Human Hybrids, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), Lesbian Parents, Lonely Bruce, Not A Fix-It, Post-Endgame, Psychotic Scientists, Snark, superpowers!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 14:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wireless_operator/pseuds/wireless_operator
Summary: The Avengers may have defeated Thanos, but that doesn't mean they've wiped out HYDRA. After all, if you cut off one head, two more rise from its ashes.A tale of a bird and a girl, their violent collision, and picking up the pieces.





	The Adventures of Bird Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is my first work on AO3, and I have no idea what I'm doing. :D 
> 
> General cluelessness aside, this fic is something that's been bouncing around in my head for a while now, and I decided to give it a try. It's summer, so I have a lot of time on my hands, meaning that updates should be fairly frequent for the next month and a half or so, and then school starts again and I'll be drowning in schoolwork again, sooo... we'll play it by ear, I guess?
> 
> Basically, I caught the Marvel bug about a year ago, and I really want superpowers, but I'm not a billionaire/playboy/genius and I haven't encountered any radioactive spiders lately, so I'm left with this. Enjoy!

The lab was bright and white and aggressively sterile, every surface shining, so immaculate that the barest speck of dust felt like a transgression. Johnny spent his days walking a very thin, dangerous line, like that daredevil of a man in the documentary he'd watched last night, the one who had crossed a tightrope strung between the Twin Towers. And what was it all for?

Marina, he reminded himself. His little Marina. He would do anything for her-- cross oceans, bicker with his ex-wife over custody, work a mind-numbingly boring job that just barely paid minimum wage, deal with arrogant doctors who acted like a few extra letters after their name made them better than everyone else, pretend that everything was fine, that he was happy. But God, this job-- every day he thought about quitting, and every day he reminded himself that his daughter was relying on this money. These pennies. At least the health insurance was good, though, and he needed that-- surely this place was doing a number on his blood pressure. And his father had died of a heart attack-- high blood pressure, the doctor had said, with a meaningful look at Johnny. Runs in the family.

Sighing, Johnny pushed his mop along the floor. He could feel a headache coming on now.

As if to mock him, one of those uppity scientists strode into the lab at that very moment, three others tripping over themselves to keep up. She barely spared a glance at Johnny and his lackluster efforts. Ah, Johnny knew this one. She looked at him the same way she looked at the lab rats twitching helplessly on the table before her. Like he was less than nothing.

"Get that bird in here," the woman snapped impatiently. "I don't care if it's our last specimen, this research _must_ be completed."

"But, ma'am," said one of the underlings, nervously pushing up his glasses as they slipped down his nose, "All the others have died, isn't it awfully risky to--"

She spun on her heel and fixed the man with a glare that raised the hairs on the back of Johnny's neck. "Was I unclear in any way, Dr. Brentley?" Her voice was even and cold.

"Ah, no, n-no, not at all, Doctor," stammered the man, eyes darting to the side. Johnny could see the sweat beading on his temples as he bent his head, bald scalp gleaming under the harsh lights.

"Then _get it done_ ," she hissed, and strode towards one of the ominous machines in the back that Johnny wasn't allowed to touch. The underling-- Brentley, Johnny reminded himself, almost felt sorry for the man-- scrambled out of the room like his rear was on fire. With apprehensive glances at the lead scientist-- even the back of her head looked furious-- the other two scurried quickly after him.

Barely a second later, another whitecoat swept purposefully in. God, couldn't Johnny catch a break? This one he recognized: nice, sure, sometimes smiled vaguely at Johnny as she looked through him, occupied as she was with her scientific crusade. More than he could say for most, including Dr. Scary in the back, but she was a total neat freak. He'd have to do the whole room over again to avoid a citation, and he couldn't afford another one of those, not with summer vacation and his and Marina's annual trip to Coney Island coming up. Stifling a groan, Johnny managed to swab at the floor with a bit more vigor.

"Caroline, are you sure about this?" Clean Freak said to Scary. "I know this project is important to you, but one mistake and--"

"It all goes down the drain." Her voice was cool, collected. "I am aware. I am also--" she held up one long, thin finger to forestall further protests "-- _abundantly_ aware of the financial risk my behavior poses to this organization and its noble mission, et cetera. Richardson needs a new spiel."

Clean Freak sighed. "Well, as long as you're aware of the implications," she said tiredly. "I know you can handle yourself." She smiled (smiled!) at Scary. Did Johnny need a new eye prescription already? Or were the lab chemicals going to his head?

Scary twitched her lips in a vague approximation of a grimace, and Clean patted her gently on the shoulder before leaving the room in a swirl of white fabric. Scary shuddered slightly and turned, placing a box on the table. Snapping on a pair of gloves, she carelessly shoved the box over, spilling the limp corpse of a bird onto the polished countertop. She pulled a wickedly sharp-looking knife from her coat pocket and promptly decapitated the bird with a _thwack_. 

As the bird's lifeless eyes bored into Johnny's, and Scary carved almost gleefully into the body, staining her gloves red to the wrists, Johnny was reminded, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that tightrope walking was all well and good, but it wasn't long before the Twin Towers had gone up in great pillars of flame, leaving nothing but smoke and ash in their wake.


End file.
